Born This Way
by Chayo1197
Summary: 17 related oneshots based on all 17 songs from Lady Gaga's Born This Way. Kurt, Blaine, and Dave have to face changes, each other, and themselves. Chapter 5: Americano-Dave
1. Marry the Night:Kurt

1-Marry the Night, season 2, pre-klaine

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><p>Kurt was tired.<p>

He had been so tired for so long.

All of the bullying, despite his best efforts to hold his head up high and forget about it, got to him sometimes.

It haunted him mostly when he was alone with his thoughts in the middle of the night. When the Hudmel house had settled down, and Burt and Carole were deep asleep in their room, and Finn was awake in his room playing video games or something like that. Kurt would lie awake in his bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering why. Why him.

He hated to ask that, because it felt wrong to ask. It was just his place in high school. After the four years of torture were over, he would move to New York where his classmates in college would accept him and love him the way he was. There would be no slushies, no being shoved into lockers, no dumpster tosses.

But that was almost two years away. And for the moment he was stuck here in Lima. With the homophobes who were bent on making his life a living hell.

Sometimes he wondered what it would be like to die.

Maybe not die. That sounded…horrible.

Maybe to just disappear. To sink underneath the garbage pile he was thrown in. To melt with the ice thrown at him. To just leave.

Being invisible was easier when he was younger. He was shy, so not many kids gave him a second glance. He was happy in his own little word, even if it did get lonely sometimes.

At times like this, he let the cold, indifferent mask that he wore all day fade away. He felt so raw and vulnerable here in his bed in the dark, where there was no one but him with his thoughts. He tried to avoid any of these thoughts, but he couldn't help it. They just came and hung over him. They stared him in the face and taunted him, asking what he was going to do tomorrow, when Karofsky or the puck heads teased him or tossed him around. And they would laugh and they would say nothing. He would take it all with a calm but icy expression, and he would pick himself up and pretend it never happened.

But what if it never happened again? What if the torture stopped? What if he wasn't there to take the abuse anymore? What if he simply just disappeared, or never existed at all?

He would miss his friends.

He would miss glee club. He would miss shopping with Mercedes, or making snide comments about Rachel with Quinn and Santana. He would miss Brittany's innocence. He would miss Mike's amazing dance moves, because no one could dance like him. He would miss Tina's optimism. He would miss Artie's kindness. He would miss Sam's gentleness. He would miss Lauren's attitude. He would even miss Puck's smart ass remarks.

Then there was his family.

He would miss Carole's worrying over him. Even though they weren't blood related, she acted so much like a mother to him. She could never replace Kurt's real mom, but it was close. She made the house feel like a home again.

He would miss Finn's dorkiness and odd comments about why he wouldn't eat cucumbers anymore, or watching him inhale an entire pizza. Though he seemed insensitive at times, he had little sparks of wisdom that came out at the times Kurt needed him most. Finn amazed Kurt at how much he had changed. He wasn't perfect, but he was working on himself, and Kurt couldn't ask for a better brother.

And of course he would miss his father. For years they were all each other had. Kurt loved his dad more than anyone else in the entire world. Burt was his entire world. He was amazing. He had accepted Kurt without a second thought, and loved him no matter what. Sure, they had some ups and downs, but it only made them stronger. Kurt wouldn't trade Burt for the world.

…maybe life wasn't so bad after all.

Sure, there were bullies, but it was only for a little while. And though it seemed hopeless, Kurt had so many people he loved and who loved him just as much. He had never smiled so much than he had with them. With his friends, with his family. They made his life worth living.

All of those bullies would see, one day, when Kurt was a famous designer/Broadway star in New York, they would all see their mistakes and rue the day they ever decided to mess with Kurt Hummel. He was going to take the world by storm one day, with his voice and his clothes. It would all be worth it. He just had to endure a little longer, and he wasn't alone. Behind him, he had his family, his friends, who made everything worth it.

Kurt never thought about disappearing again.

* * *

><p><em>I'm gonna marry the night<br>I won't give up on my life  
>I'm a warrior queen<br>Live passionately  
>Tonight<em>


	2. Born This Way:Dave

2-Born This Way, season 2, night before Never Been Kissed, Dave-ccentric.

* * *

><p>"Yes…Yes I understand. Of course. Thank you for your time."<p>

Dave heard the phone being put back into its cradle, and his dad's soft sigh. The house was quiet for another few moments before Dave heard his dad's padded footsteps walking from the dining room, through the kitchen, and back to the living room where Dave was sitting in front of the television, pretending to watch the football game.

"David."

Dave successfully prevented himself from flinching at the sound of his name. He leaned forward in the couch, wanting to seem detached. "Yeah?" He mumbled.

"That was your math teacher on the phone."

Dave's heart sank a little, but all he did was blink. "Yeah?" He said again.

"…Yeah. Says you have some missing homework assignments."

"Mm."

Dave groaned as the runner was tackled and the referee blew his whistle.

"David, look at me."

Dave bit his lip. He didn't want to. He didn't want to see his father's face contorted in an expression of passive disappointment. Because no matter what Paul said, Dave knew he was disappointed. Despite the fact that Dave was on the hockey and football team and was fairly popular on the teams (with the exception of the stupid Glocks* like Hudson, Puckerman, Chang and Rutherford), he still wasn't doing enough. There was always something to catch up on. Something to improve.

Slowly, as the game went to a commercial, Dave looked over at his father. Paul looked tired. His tie was pulled down a bit after wearing it all day at work. His suit was a little wrinkled from moving around all day. There wasn't a day that Dave hadn't seen his dad in a suit. Even when he was little, Dave remembered always seeing Paul in a suit. But back then the suits weren't accessorized with the look of disappointment. Those were the good old days…

"What's gotten into you, son? Math is one of your best subjects."

Dave glanced back to the television before looking back at his dad. He shrugged, trying to pretend not to care. "I don't know. I've been busy. Coach has been working us hard lately."

It wasn't a complete lie. Tanaka had been taking all of his fury from dumping Ms. Pillsbury out on the team. Dave didn't think it was possible for the man to get any meaner than he already was, but he had been proven wrong easily.

Paul sighed and nodded slowly. "I understand. Being part of a team is a big responsibility, but I think that there's something else bothering you that you haven't told me about yet."

Dave swallowed the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat. There's no way his dad knew, right? Dave suddenly wondered if he had forgotten to turn off his laptop and his dad had seen his browser history. No, that couldn't be it. Dave always made sure to lock it and changed the password every week. There was no way his dad could have seen anything.

"No there isn't, I'm fine."

Paul sighed again. The sound was starting to make Dave feel guilty. The man sat down next to his son, rubbing at his eyes before looking at him. "David, you know you can talk to me about anything, right?"

Shit. He knew something. He knew something was up. Dave's heart started beating wildly, but he managed to keep the panic attack from showing as he nodded. "Yeah, sure."

"Don't give me that, I'm serious. I need you to talk to me, David. I'm starting to get worried about you. This isn't the first time a teacher has called concerned about your grades. I don't know what's going on so you need to fill me in. Talk to me. I'm your father, and I love you no matter what." Paul's eyebrows rose slightly. "You understand that, don't you?"

Dave nodded. "Yeah, yeah dad. I'm sorry about my grades. I'll try harder." Dave just wanted this conversation over with, before Paul pried anything out of him. Before he discovered what was really wrong with his son. But Dave wasn't so sure that Paul didn't already know. The way Paul looked at him, Dave knew his dad knew something.

Paul looked as if he were going to go on, to protest, to plead Dave to just please, talk to him. He would understand and love him and support him no matter what. But something changed. Whether it was the stress of another day at work, or just hoping that Dave was telling the truth, and he was truly okay, Paul closed his mouth and got up from the couch.

"What do you want for dinner?"

"Whatever sounds good."

"I'll have your mom pick something up on her way home."

"'Kay."

Paul nodded and watched his son for a moment more before going into the kitchen to pour himself a drink. As soon as his dad was out of sight, Dave let out a relieved sigh and sunk back into the couch. That was too close. Okay, maybe his dad didn't know, but he would soon. Tonight he would talk about it with his wife and they would agree that something was different about Dave. They would try to pry it out of him slowly, but Dave was guarding this secret with his very life.

If anyone found out that he was gay, his life would be over. McKinley would turn into his own personal hell, and all of the ways he tortured Hummel would come back and his him full force. He was sure his mom and dad would be fine with it. They weren't homophobic. They had friends who were gay. But his friends wouldn't be his friends anymore. He wouldn't be Dave Karofsky anymore. He would be just another gay kid, the target. The victim.

Dave turned the television off and went upstairs to his room before his father could come back with anymore words of advice. He just needed to hide. The less he talked to people, the less he would feel the need to let his secret out.

He laid down on his bed, hands behind his head, and he stared up at ceiling. Why did life have to be this way? Was it some sort of punishment? Was he being punished for bullying Kurt in the weirdest way possible, by being attracted to him?

This was all Hummel's fault.

Dave had never felt like this for any other boy before. But ever since Hummel came flouncing into his life, with his fancy clothes and his snarky attitude and his defiant glasz eyes and his beautifully shaped face and amazing figure-

Wait, no, stop it. Knock it off. Hummel was to blame. Hummel was the enemy. He was the reason Dave felt so confused. Dave Karofsky wasn't a freak. He wasn't going to be a fairy like Hummel. He wasn't going to give into his feelings. He was going to fight them, and if need be, he would hold them in until the day he died. He was a man, a real man. Not like girly, prissy Hummel.

Fucking Hummel.

He was going to get it tomorrow.

Dave let his eyes droop closed. He just wanted to stop being so confused, to stop feeling like he was trapped in a corner with nowhere to run. He couldn't concentrate in class anymore because of this heavy weight on his mind. He just…he was scared. But tomorrow he would confront his fears. He would make sure that Kurt knew what to expect if he should ever leak any information about the kiss they had shared. He felt tears burning in his eyes, remembering the kiss, and he remembered how right Kurt's lips felt against his own right before he fell asleep.

* * *

><p>…ve? David? David, wake up."<p>

Dave groaned. He felt someone shaking his shoulder, but he didn't want to open his eyes. He was having the most amazing dream, where Kurt came up to him and shyly told Dave he had a crush on him. And unlike real-life Dave, Dream Dave smiled charmingly and told Kurt he felt the same, and they shared a tender kiss, right there in the middle of the hallway. And the best part was that there were no slushies. No calls of 'homos' or 'faggots' or any other degrading name. It was like it was just Kurt and Dave in the entire universe.

"David, come on. Please?"

Dave sighed at the sound of his mom's voice again. He forced his eyes open and he looked at his mother. He always thought she was the most beautiful woman, with short, wavy brown hair that was beginning to gray a little, and soft, understanding green eyes. When he opened his eyes, she smiled. "Hey there." She said softly, running a hand through his short hair.

Dave couldn't help but smile. His mom always made him feel at ease. "Hey mom." He mumbled, sitting up, wincing when his back cracked. She heard it, and winced. "Practice go okay?"

Dave nodded. "Yeah, just a little sore is all."

She nodded slowly, and by the way she was looking at the ground trying to find words, Dave knew that his dad had already talked to her.

"David, your father told me that one of your teachers called this afternoon. You're failing math?"

Dave bit the inside of his cheek, and he nodded silently. He heard her sigh softly.

"David you have to talk to us. You've always been a wonderful student. I know you study hard to earn those grades. What's going on?"

He was silent again. He couldn't say it. He couldn't tell her. He knew that she was there, with arms open wide, accepting and loving. But he just couldn't. If he told her, if he said it, then he would have no choice to accept it. So he shook his head again, silent.

His mother sighed softly, and raised a hand to stroke his hair. "Oh David…you know that you can tell me anything. I'm your mother, and it's my job to not only help you, but love you no matter what. I will always be there to support you and love you." She pulled her hand away and lifted his chin up slowly so that their eyes met. "You just have to tell me what's going on. This isn't like you."

Dave's eyes started to water, and he threw his arms around his mother. She was surprised for a second, before she wrapped her arms around him equally tight and rubbed his back. He started to cry into her shoulder, and shame burned in his face. He was 17-years-old and crying to his mother like he was five. He couldn't tell her. He just…"I can't." He whispered. "I can't mom. I can't."

"Shhh, baby shhh." She cooed softly, rocking him back and forth slowly. "You tell me when you're ready, David, okay? Your father and I are right here for you, and we will love you no matter what."

Dave nodded, but he didn't know when the time would be; when he could tell her about himself without being afraid of retaliation at school. If he told his mom, then he would feel better. He knew that. But telling her was a one-way trip to telling everyone else. And that was something he wasn't ready for.

He wasn't sure if he would ever be ready.

* * *

><p><em>My mama told me when I was young<br>We're all born superstars  
>She rolled my hair up, put my lipstick on in the glass of her boudoir<br>There's nothing wrong with loving who you are  
>'Cuz He made you perfect, babe<br>So hold your head up and you'll go far  
>Listen to me when I say...<em>


	3. Gov't Hooker:Blaine

3-Government Hooker, pre-klaine, Blaine-centric

* * *

><p>"Son, wake up."<p>

Blaine let out a soft groan and he held on tighter to his pillow, as if this action would make his father go away. It was near the end of summer break and Blaine wanted to sleep in as much as possible before he had to go back to Dalton. Unfortunately, his father wasn't getting the hint, and Blaine was met only with more shaking.

"Blaine, wake up. Come on."

Blaine sighed and forced his eyes open. His father was standing over him, already dressed in a plain black shirt and faded, old jeans. Blaine wasn't fully awake yet, so he figured he might have been seeing things. His father, the pretentious lawyer, wearing such plain clothes? Impossible.

"That a'boy son, come on. Get some old clothes on and meet me in the garage in ten minutes."

Before Blaine could ask what was going on, his father walked out of the room, closing the door behind himself. Blaine sighed and opted to lie down with his eyes closed for a few more minutes. Curious as to what exactly his father had planned, he slid out of bed and shuffled to his closet. Digging underneath all of his recently washed and folded clothes, he found a plain white shirt. Not knowing what it was for, he figured if anything happened, he wouldn't be devastated if it got dirty or anything.

Pulling on some jeans and sliding into some old sneakers, Blaine left his room and went downstairs. He passed the kitchen on his way to the garage, and was surprised to find his mother wasn't cooking. That was odd. But maybe she had some sort of errands to run. Or maybe it was her socialite tea party thing she had mentioned the other day. Blaine couldn't remember for sure, so instead of anything solid, he poured himself some orange juice and took it with him into the garage.

Their garage was more of a reminiscent heaven for his father than an actual garage. There were old trophies from track and field competitions, pictures of his old high school football team, and of course his collection of golf clubs and pictures of him with famous golfers. Blaine never did understand what the appeal of golfing was. A bunch of old men swinging sticks at balls and throwing their backs out in the process didn't seem all that fun to him. But of course, being his parents' son, he had to learn to impress his father's bosses on the annual firm summer get together.

As Blaine continued to walk down the stairs, he slowed to a stop before he got to the bottom. There, in the middle of the garage, was a junk car. It was a charcoal black, and it looked like someone had taken a knife and scraped the paint off. One of the wheels was completely flat. The hood was slightly bent.

"Uh, dad?"

"Over here."

Blaine walked down the rest of the stairs to see his dad near his work table. It was covered in polished tools, and there was even a new wheel there on the side. Blaine's dad smiled at him. "We're going to do some real male bonding today, son."

Blaine's eyes widened, and for a moment he felt like he was in some sort of alternate universe where his father actually wanted to spend time with him. "W-What?"

"You and I are going to fix up this car here." The man walked over and patted the hood of the car. "It's a 1980 300d. Mercedes Benz. Now these are beauties."

"Yeah!" Blaine ran down the rest of the stairs, walking around and examining the car. "I've seen these around. Real classics right?"

"She's got potential." The elder Anderson rubbed his son's shoulder proudly. "Now come on. If you think the outside is bad, you should see underneath."

Ever since Blaine had come out to his parents a year ago, things seemed to just be tense between the three of them. Especially at dinners, when his father repeatedly asked if there were any girls in his life. Blaine would always just look at him and shake his head. Why couldn't his father just accept him for who he was? He wasn't any different than he had been before. He was still the same Blaine. But his father would never understand that, and Blaine was afraid he never would.

But now here they were, handing each other tools, laughing and joking when they got dirty. Blaine's father was so at ease. He never smiled so quickly or so genuinely before, and Blaine felt his heart swell when he said something that made his father chuckle, or even reach out to ruffle Blaine's ungelled hair. It was a dream come true. Maybe his father had accepted him after all.

"Good work son. We'll pick up here tomorrow."

The next morning, Mr. Anderson woke Blaine up early again, this time telling him to get ready to go to the firm. True, working on the car had exhausted Blaine, but at least it was a sign. His father was trying to get to know him, to bond with him, to be as close as they had been before.

Blaine quickly dried off after his shower and hurried to his closet, pulling out a suit for formal occasions. He slid into his black loafers and went into the bathroom again, slicking his hair with gel. When he looked in the mirror, something seemed…familiar. Of course it was his reflection, he saw it every time he looked in the mirror. But there was something different. In this suit, with his hair like this…

He looked exactly like his father.

But there was nothing wrong with that, right? Of course he looked like his father. However, this morning, it just seemed more apparent. It was scary in a sense, and Blaine just continued to stare.

What if he became his father one day? What if he worked at a firm like his father, and laughed at stupid jokes like his father, and kissed people's asses like his father, and golfed like his father, and hated his gay son like his father?

His thoughts were interrupted by his father, hollering, "Blaine, we've got to get going!"

Blaine glanced at his closed bathroom door, then back to his reflection. He had to do something to keep some kind of distinction between him and his father. But what?

He walked back into his room, looking around his room. What about some kind of pin on his blazer? No, his father might think that too girly or something, and he didn't want to upset his father. Not while the man was just starting to stand him again. Blaine sighed and opened his closet, looking around. There had to be something. And then he got it. He pulled out one of his neatly folded Dalton ties, lifted the collar of his shirt and tied it around his neck before adjusting the collar again. He ran to the bathroom and looked at his reflection. Even with the tie, he looked more like himself. He grinned softly and ran downstairs.

His mother was M.I.A again, probably with her friends at a brunch or something, and his father was lingering by the front door, suitcase in hand. "Come on, son. I want to get some coffee before we get there."

Blaine's eyes lit up. "Alright dad!" He grinned and followed his dad out to his sleek black car. Brand new of course, and nothing like that piece of junk waiting for the rest of its repairs in the garage. They hadn't finished all of it yesterday, but Blaine's father said that it was part of the process. Some guys took years to finish their restorations, but since this car wasn't as bad off, it would only take a few weeks. A month at the most.

The two sat in the car in a comfortable silence. Blaine felt like a kid again, riding with his father alone. When he was little, his dad would often drive him to football day camps or baseball games, and afterwards they would both talk excitedly about the plays that had been made, and how the other team sucked, and the friends that Blaine made. Those were easier days, before Blaine liked show tunes, before he started singing, before he told his father he was gay and it seemed like his father would never be proud of him again. It seemed, however, that those days were back again.

They got coffee in a Starbucks drive-thru not far from Mr. Anderson's firm, and drank their coffees on the way there. When they got out of the car, they each disposed of their empty Venti cups in the garbage can near the front entrance.

As soon as the two stepped inside, Mr. Anderson was bombarded with people. Where is this paperwork for this case, we have a meeting today with our client from that case, we have a settlement offer waiting for our approval on another case, we have offered a settlement for this case here, and on and on. Blaine was already dizzy as he watched his father talking with each and every one of the people. I submitted it yesterday, what time is the meeting, what is the amount of the settlement, have they accepted the settlement yet, and on and on.

It took about fifteen minutes to get to Mr. Anderson's office, where the man sat down behind his desk and set his briefcase on the desk, opening it up and gathering up more paperwork. Blaine didn't know how the man did it. He worked on a car for most of the day, had time to work on briefs, and then get up at the crack of dawn for another Monday morning at work, while Blaine was ready to fall asleep in one of the chairs in front of his desk.

Instead, he sat down and looked around the office. There were a few paintings on the walls, and on his father's desk, pictures of their family. A picture of Blaine's parents' wedding, one of just Blaine's mother, his older brother in his college football jersey, and one of Blaine. However, this seemed to be the most out of date one. Blaine looked to be about 13 or 14, kneeling on one knee and looking up at the camera. He wore a royal blue football jersey with the number 45 on his chest, a wide grin on his face. It was his middle school football picture. But that was odd. Blaine had been giving him school pictures after that. Why didn't he have one of those up?

As Mr. Anderson was in and out of the office all day, Blaine followed him, going from boring meeting to boring meeting. Even though Blaine didn't know anything about the topics that were discussed with serious faces and money figures being thrown around, it didn't dampen his spirits. He was with his father, and his father wanted him around. That was all that mattered.

Two weeks went by like this, going to bed late after working on the car, getting up early to go to the firm. But today Blaine wasn't moving as fast as he had been. His steam was running low. Perhaps because he was tired from the busy two weeks. Maybe because he had only eaten once all day. Whatever it was, it didn't take long for Mr. Anderson to notice. "Son, come on, I can't be the only one working on this. It takes two."

Blaine bit his lip, trying to make himself work faster. "I know, I'm just a little tired. I'm sorry dad."

Mr. Anderson raised an eyebrow. "Tired? Son this is real life. If you can't handle this then I don't know what you're going to do."

Blaine had to scoff at that. This wasn't real life. This was a fifty-year-old man trying to regain some of his youth in some odd way. "Right."

His father raised an eyebrow. "What does that tone mean?"

Blaine sighed softly. He didn't want to fight. Not now, that they were actually getting along. But still, he had to say something, or else he was going to be stuck in this endless loop of grease and lawyers. "I mean this isn't what I want to do with my life. I mean, I think it's fun and all, restoring this cool old car," at this, Mr. Anderson smiled a little. "But when I'm in New York for, I don't know, Julliard-"

"Julliard?"

Blaine stopped mid-sentence. He hadn't exactly expressed his desire to go to the music school yet. His father probably assumed he was going to apply at Yale or Harvard or something. And to just blurt that out about Julliard…

"What in God's name are you going to do at Julliard? Please tell me you aren't thinking of wasting my money to go to sing."

Blaine bit his lip. "W-Well they have instrument classes too. I could take piano-"

"You know how to play piano well enough for a boy. Any more of that and people will talk."

That struck a nerve, and it made Blaine's blood boil. Of course. How could he have thought that his father had changed? "Dad-"

"I will not discuss this with you, Blaine. I've had enough of this ridiculous obsession of yours." The man threw down the wrench he had been holding and glared at his son. "You're only a teenager, what the hell do you know about life? You don't know anything, you don't even know anything about yourself. I'll not have any of this…this faggot music nonsense in my home. Do you understand me?" He stepped up right into Blaine's face, stabbing a finger into his son's chest repeatedly. "You are going to a respected school where you will study law and you will graduate and work at the same law firm I do. You will be married, to a _woman¸_ and you will have children, like I did. You will have sons, and you will teach them what it is to be a man, just like I am right now. Do you understand me, Blaine Anderson?"

Blaine stared wide-eyed up at his father, his hazel eyes filled with tears. They had just…been working on a car. They were having a good time. And just, all of the sudden…

"Blaine, you will answer me when I am speaking to you."

Blaine's lower lip trembled. He had to stay strong. He had to tell his father about his dreams of performing, of singing, and about how happy he was at school when he performed with the Warblers. It felt like, for once, since he had come out to his parents and been bullied out of his old school, he felt like he belonged. But seeing how angry his father was, and how quickly his demeanor had changed...he forced himself to nod.

"Y-Yes sir."

* * *

><p><em>I can be good<br>If you just want to be bad  
>I can be cool<br>If you just want to be mad  
>I can be anything, I'll be your everything<br>Just touch me baby  
>I don't want to be sad<em>


	4. Judas:Klainofskimiah

4-Judas, season 2, Silly Love Songs, klainofskimiah (wow that's a mouthful)

* * *

><p>Kurt thought it would be different here.<p>

Well, in a way, it was. In a huge way.

He had never felt as safe and as accepted anywhere as he felt at Dalton. After the whole Karofsky incident had him scared for his life every second of every day, Burt had transferred him to Dalton Academy. And it was a dream come true, especially after meeting Blaine.

Dear, sweet Blaine, who had more advice than a bag of fortune cookies. Blaine, who helped him adjust to his new school and comforted him when he felt homesick. Who helped him blend in, and who steered him in the right direction. And Blaine, who sang with him on cold winter nights, whose touch was so easily given, and whose eyes were warm with…love?

Sometimes it drove Kurt insane.

The way Blaine openly flirted with him, Kurt just wanted to grab him and kiss him. When they sat for coffee, their hands so close, he wanted to reach out and touch Blaine's hand, just a little. Maybe Blaine would turn his hand and hold Kurt's, and he would smile up at Kurt, and there would be a silent agreement to be boyfriends.

So far, no dice.

Kurt knew that they were friends. He treasured that friendship. Not anymore than his friendship with, say Mercedes, but this friendship was different. Blaine understood him in a way that Mercedes or his father or Finn or anyone else could never understand. Blaine went through what he went through, and that made them closer. Still, it felt like that whenever Blaine glanced up at Kurt, or Kurt looked over to Blaine, there was a silence waiting to be filled.

Sometimes it was painful. After a long day of classes, Warbler practice, and studying with Blaine, Kurt would lie awake in his bed, heart thumping, wondering if Blaine was thinking of him too. And if he was, was tomorrow the day that Blaine would confess his feelings? Would tomorrow be the day that Blaine kissed him and ask to be his boyfriend?

The sun would rise, with so much promise, and Kurt would go through the day hopeful, eyes always watching Blaine, only to find himself hours later in the same spot on his bed, wondering if the day after would be the day.

* * *

><p>It was too different here. Way too different.<p>

After his short suspension, Dave was back at McKinley. When his friends saw him, they clapped him on the back and congratulated him on finally chasing that fairy Hummel out of the place. Dave was confused. Had Kurt been suspended? That didn't make sense. Dave had been the one who threatened Kurt, not the other way around. It wasn't like Kurt could do any damage anyway.

As Dave walked through the hallways, he didn't see the countertenor at all. Not at his locker, not coming out of the girls' bathroom, or the choir room, or his third period French class. It was odd, but maybe Hummel was just hiding since he had to have known that Dave was coming back today. Dave knew he should have felt smug with satisfaction that Hummel was way too afraid to face him, but all he felt was a pang of loneliness.

Dave thought for sure that Hummel would be with his glee friends at lunch, and so when the bell rang and he walked into the cafeteria, he casually looked around, looking at the table they all usually shared. He could see Finn easily since the kid was taller than a Redwood, and Puckerman because of his mohawk. The Cheerios were there, their uniforms not very subtle, as well as the kid in the wheelchair, the two Asian kids, Aretha, and Berry. Even that new kid Evans was there. But there was no sign of Hummel. It didn't look like they had saved a spot for him either.

Where the hell did Hummel run off to?

It was a few days later that Dave finally got his answer, when he and Evans got into a spat in the locker room after a scrimmage. Puckerman had glared at him, not touching him at all, just glaring at him with a pair of the most hateful eyes Dave had ever seen. "Don't push me, Karofsky! You forced my boy Kurt out of here and juvie or no, you're already number one on my list to go all death star on."

Dave could have choked on his heart, which had suddenly leapt into his throat. Kurt was gone? But where? Where could he have gone?

Later on, walking home from school, Dave realized there's only one place Kurt could have gone. He remembered that day that Kurt and his little uniformed boyfriend tried to out him right there on the stairs. Dave remembered that stupid kid with his gelled hair and pristine uniform, looking up at him when Dave had shoved him against the fence, hands in the air but unafraid of him. It unnerved him. Kurt must have gone there, to wherever the uniform and the kid came from.

The hell if he would ever figure out where Kurt had gone. All Dave knew was that Kurt was gone, probably for good, and Dave was alone in the school. Sure, he still had his friends, but it didn't feel the same. This loneliness that had evaporated with a kiss, was now suffocating him.

He walked through his front door, ignoring his mom's questions about how his day went, and walked straight up the stairs to his room, closing the door. He let his backpack drop from his shoulders and onto the ground before he walked over to his nightstand next to his bed. Sitting on the edge of his bed, he looked at the small cake topper still sitting next to his alarm clock. The only thing he had of Hummel's.

The little bride had a smile designed on her face, as did the groom. It was really pretty, though sometimes kind of creepy. Dave wouldn't have expected anything less from Hummel. He wondered how the wedding went sometimes, and how amazing Kurt must have looked in a suit. Then he would curse Hummel for even entering his mind, but he never moved the cake topper from its spot.

Kurt had been the only other person to know that Dave was gay. And now that Kurt was gone, Dave felt more alone than he ever had.

* * *

><p>He was so beautiful.<p>

Blaine didn't know what it was about Jeremiah that drew Blaine to him. Maybe it was his sharp, defined jaw line, or the way his wavy hair flowed around his face perfectly. Or it could have been the brightness of his blue eyes underneath his gorgeous mane. Even in his normal work attire, which almost always consisted of a sweatshirt and jeans, Blaine found that he was the most breath-taking man alive.

Jeremiah glanced over his shoulder and Blaine casually looked away, a blush suddenly burning his cheeks. He hadn't noticed Blaine staring right? He wasn't staring back, right? Blaine coolly took a sip of his medium drip and looked back to find that Jeremiah had gone back to folding the shirts on the Gap display table. He let out a relieved sigh.

This was embarrassing. Blaine felt like a schoolgirl flitting about the Gap like this. He should just…go up to Jeremiah and talk to him. It wasn't as if they've never talked before. Jeremiah had thanked him and told him to have a good day when he purchased that scarf a couple of weeks ago. And they had a nice conversation over some coffee a week after that, once Blaine had practically shrieked if Jeremiah had the time, he would love to treat him to some coffee. Jeremiah smiled softly and said he was just getting off work anyway, and that coffee sounded nice. Blaine couldn't feel his body after that.

They had a nice, normal conversation, despite Blaine's heart beating so quickly that he thought for sure he was going to keel over and have a heart attack right over their biscotti. Jeremiah asked about school, and Blaine told him about his good grades and of course, the Warblers. Jeremiah smiled at that, and thought an a capella group with boys so young sounded really neat. He seemed surprised that teenage boys would be into that, and Blaine proudly said that they took their music very seriously. Jeremiah said he would love to see them perform sometime, and Blaine knew he was in love.

The second time they went out for coffee, things got a little more serious. Jeremiah could sense that Blaine was a little on edge, and Blaine confided in him about Kurt. The poor kid had come to Dalton after being chased out by a bully, and after being rejected for a solo at sectionals, he was worried about the countertenor.

Jeremiah sighed and told Blaine he felt sorry for Kurt. He knew how hard it was being gay, and even though it was a completely inappropriate time, Blaine perked up. So Jeremiah was indeed gay. He hadn't wanted to assume, but now…now he had it direct from the man himself. Blaine couldn't help but blush when Jeremiah smiled at him and told him what a great friend he was being to Kurt, and Kurt was lucky to have him.

They parted ways early, and Blaine rushed back to Dalton, calling Wes on his way back. The Warblers needed to hold an emergency meeting.

* * *

><p>"To put it simply, I'm in love."<p>

As the Warblers exclaimed in their quiet ways, looking at each other with wide eyes and grins, Kurt felt his heart soaring in his chest. They had talked earlier about it being a good idea to serenade his crush, and Kurt had been so excited. But for Blaine to go all out and have the Warblers sing to him as well? It was so romantic!

As Blaine talked on about wanting to sing, Kurt wondered what he should wear on such a momentous occasion such as this. He had snuck some designer clothes with him when he packed for Dalton, so he was prepared. It just depended on the setting and the weather, if Blaine decided to serenade him on a balcony or something.

"I'd like to call it the Warblers' Gap Attack."

Kurt blinked. "Why the Gap?"

Blaine grinned. "The guy I like is a junior manager there."

…..Oh.

* * *

><p>Dave walked into the Lima Bean, sighing softly. It was way too early in the morning, but he needed to get out of his house. He felt smothered there with his parents watching his every move. He knew they were worried but he couldn't bring himself to tell them. Not yet. Not now.<p>

He was walking towards the line when he saw a familiar face. Or rather, a familiar back of the head. He had shoved Hummel from behind enough times to know what the boy looked like, and that was definitely Hummel in line for coffee. He looked different…a little more confident. He stood a little taller than the rest of the crowd, and Dave could feel his heart pounding in his chest.

Hummel was right there, just a few feet away from him. Now was his chance. He could be a man and go over there to apologize. There was no one here that either of them knew. It was just them. This was Dave's chance. He started walking straight up to Hummel, and opened his mouth to call his name, when another voice caught Kurt's attention.

"Why are there so many hearts around? Ugh. It's disgusting."

Dave looked to Kurt's side, and recognized the uniformed boy immediately, with his stupid slicked black hair and his…ugh.

Kurt rolled his eyes and sighed. "Well someone seems to have changed their tune."

As the two talked, Dave's confidence slowly ebbed away. A customer accidently rammed into his shoulder, and he winced. Maybe this was a bad idea. But if he didn't do it now, he didn't know if he would ever get the chance again. He had to do this.

"Can I be honest with you?"

"Of course."

"I thought the person you were going to serenade…was me."

Blaine and Dave's eyebrows shot up in surprise simultaneously, and Dave could feel his heart cracking into a million pieces.

Blaine swallowed the lump that had suddenly appeared in his throat, and he licked his lips before opening his mouth to speak. "Kurt...I'm not very good at romance. I just…I don't want to screw this up."

And it was the God's honest truth. Blaine had never had a friend as close as Kurt was, and he didn't want to lose him. Not now, when both of them needed a friend to rely on.

To Blaine's surprise, Kurt smiled softly at him. "So then it's just like How Harry Met Sally." His eyes narrowed and he smirked playfully. "But I get to play Meg Ryan."

Blaine laughed softly. "Deal…." He blinked. "Wait, don't they get together in the end?"

Kurt gave him a knowing smile before paying for their coffees.

Neither noticed Dave turning and leaving as quickly as he could.

* * *

><p><em>When he calls to me, I am ready<br>I'll wash his feet with my hair if he needs  
>Forgive him when his tongue lies through his brain<br>Even after three times he betrays me_


	5. Americano:Dave

5-Americano, season 2, Dave-ccentric

* * *

><p>"David! Oh David!" Mary called in a sing-song voice, and Dave rolled his eyes but smiled all the same. He had been up in his room, which was quickly becoming his sanctuary away from everything. Ever since that day at the coffee shop, he just felt…embarrassed. The world just seemed a lot less bright without Kurt Hummel around.<p>

"Yeah ma?"

"Come down here, I want to talk to you."

Dave sighed and closed his math book. It wasn't like he was actually getting something done anyway. He got up from his chair at his desk and walked down the stairs. His mother and father were standing by the front door, smiles on their faces, and suddenly Dave was worried. What did they know? Had they figured it out?

"Uh, hey. What's going on?"

His mother smiled widely. "We have a surprise for you."

Dave blinked. "What…kind of surprise?"

Paul and Mary exchanged an excited look before looking back to their son. "Your mother set up a date with a girl from church."

Dave could have fainted, he was so relieved. "Oh, is that it?"

Mary huffed. "Is that it? That's all you have to say to me." She swatted him playfully and Dave laughed. "Sorry ma, I mean thanks."

Mary smiled softly and rubbed his upper arm gently. "I just worry about you, always up in your room by yourself. I think you need to get out and have a little fun, okay?"

Dave nodded slowly. He had felt himself dragging these past couple weeks. He just didn't feel the same. When he had been bullying Kurt, he had felt this…this power over him. Dave could make him flinch just by being in his presence, and it had felt good for a while. But now Kurt was gone, and Dave had to live with the fact that it was his fault. He drove away the one person who he cared about.

Mary and Paul stared at their son, seemingly lost in though. Mary tilted her head. "David?"

Dave looked up and blinked. "Huh?"

Mary smiled a little. "I thought you'd be more excited. Usually you're begging to go out with your football friends. You don't have to go if you don't want to, I just thought…"

Dave quickly shook his head. "No, ma, I do want to go. I was just…surprised is all." He moved over and wrapped his arms around her, hugging her gently. "It's an awesome surprise, thanks ma." Even though it was a little embarrassing that his _mother_ had gotten him a date.

But he couldn't tell her that. Especially not after she had gone through all of this trouble because she was worried about him.

Mary giggled softly. "Good, I'm glad you approve." She patted his back and pulled away gently., handing Dave a piece of paper from her pocket. "Alright, here's her address. Go on, she'll be waiting for you!"

"Oh, hold up a sec." Paul said, pulling out his wallet and handing Dave two twenty dollar bills. "Have fun, David."

Dave looked up at his father, who smiled at him. His parents really did love him. But would they love him the same after they learned the truth?

Dave took the money and thanked his dad before going to get his letterman jacket and slid into some sneakers before heading off.

* * *

><p>The girl wasn't from McKinley, so she knew nothing of Dave's bullying. But she knew nothing about the football team either, which was a good thing. All she knew when Dave picked her up was that he was in a letterman jacket, and <em>that<em> was cool.

She kind of reminded Dave of Brittany Pierce, with her long blond hair up in a ponytail and a spacy demeanor about her. Still, she seemed really nice, and her laugh was really pretty. When Dave picked her up, she was wearing a baggy white shirt with some band on it and a black skirt, black leggings and flats. Dave thought that was pretty cool, and it made her seem really laid back.

She really was a far cry from Kurt Hummel. Dave remembered how particular Kurt was about his outfits, how he always had to match, and how upset he got when he was slushied or tossed into a dumpster and his clothes were ruined.

Yep. He was still thinking about Kurt Hummel, even on this date.

They had forgone Breadstix for a swanky burger joint downstairs in the mall. Grace, that was her name, said that the breadsticks at Breadstix were horribly stale and she preferred a burger over pasta any day. That only made Dave like her even more. She didn't even seem to mind that Mary was the one who set them up, and she told him what a nice woman she was.

They were having a pretty good conversation about football, which she took an interest in and which surprised the hell out of Dave, when there was suddenly a commotion at the bar across the way from their table. Everyone was staring at the flat screen there, which had been changed to a news station. Even from their table Dave could see what the big deal was by the huge letters at the bottom of the screen.

Gay Marriage Legalized in New York.

He wondered if Kurt knew. He wondered if Kurt and his boyfriend were celebrating. He wondered if they would go up to New York one day and get married there, right under the Statue of Liberty. It would be huge, of course. Kurt Hummel would never have just any ordinary wedding.

"Ugh, that's disgusting."

Dave turned around, eyebrows raised at Grace, who was looking at the screen. "What is?"

"Gay marriage."

Dave's heart plummeted. "Wh-What do you mean?"

Grace rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Gays are disgusting. They aren't human. They're perverted, and letting them get married is so wrong."

Dave felt like throwing up as the girl went on. How could she even think that? There was nothing wrong with gay people. They were just people, just like everyone else. That was stupid to think that-

And then he realized that he used to think that. At least, that's what he projected to everyone else around him to believe that he thought. He tortured Kurt Hummel for being gay. He teased Finn Hudson for sticking up for him, and the rest of the glee jocks. Dave was the same as Grace.

But he didn't want to be.

He didn't believe those ugly things that she was saying. Because it wasn't wrong. It wasn't disgusting. There was nothing disgusting about love.

"What if I was gay?"

Grace, who had been ranting, fell silent. She stared at Dave with a dark look on her face. "…what?"

Dave's breathing hitched. There was no going back now. "I'm gay." He said. "Do you think I'm disgusting?"

Grace stared at him for a minute more before getting up from the table. "Pervert." She spat. "I hope you burn in hell."

As he watched her walk away, Dave knew what he had to do.

* * *

><p>Mary sat in the living room, reading a book on the couch. She had given David a curfew of 11, and she knew she could trust him to be back home before then, but still she was going to wait up just in case. She was surprised when she heard a key in the door around 9. When the door opened and closed gently, she called out, "Dave? That you? I figured you wouldn't be home for-"<p>

She was stopped when Dave walked into the room, and just stood in front of her. She put her book down, and was suddenly scared when she saw his face was streaked with tears. She put the book down and stood up. "Baby what's wrong? What happened?" She asked, cupping his face with her hands, her eyes searching his for an answer.

Dave was silent for a long moment before letting out a soft sob, bowing his head in her hands. Mary looked confused. "David? What's wrong?"

Dave stayed there for a few minutes before pulling away and grabbing one of the remotes from the table. Mary watched him, her eyebrows scrunched up in concern. She was even more confused when Dave turned the television to news, where the Empire State Building was being shown. It was decorated with all kinds of colored lights, making it look like a rainbow. Under the picture was the headline again: Gay Marriage Legalized in New York.

Mary watched the television as the news reporter interviewed people and the camera scanned over what seemed like thousands of people celebrating. Dave sunk down on the couch, his face in his hands as he cried.

Slowly, Mary understood, and she sunk down next to him. She put a hand on his shoulder. "David?"

"I'm gay, ma." He whispered. "I always have been."

Mary watched her son cry with soft eyes. She rubbed his shoulder gently, and said so soft that Dave almost missed it, "I know."

Dave looked up, his face stained with tears. "You…what?"

Mary smiled softly at him. "I know."

Dave looked confused. "But…how?"

Mary cupped his cheek and kissed between his eyes. "Darling, you're frantic about your eyebrows. I kind of figured as much."

Dave blushed. "I-I just…"

Mary sighed softly. "Call it women's intuition. I wasn't sure for a while, especially since you've dated some girls. But then that whole mess with Kurt Hummel happened-" Dave winced. "And I figured that must have been it. You were struggling with yourself, David." She raised her hand and stroked his hair. "But I'm glad you've finally come to terms with it."

Dave watched her, licking his lips nervously. "So you don't…hate me?"

Mary smiled and shook her head. "Your father and I love you, no matter what. This is just part of who you are, Dave. I can't change it, and neither can you or anyone else." She kissed his forehead. "You are my son, and I love you no matter what. Understand? And one day, your father and I will be right there when you get married to a wonderful man."

Dave threw his arms around his mother and hugged her tightly.

* * *

><p><em>I met a girl in east L.A<br>In floral shorts as sweet as May  
>She sang in eights in two-barrio chords<br>We fell in love  
>But not in court<em>


	6. Hair:Kurt

6-Hair, season 2, Kurt and Blaine

* * *

><p>"Ick."<p>

Kurt looked at his uniform disdainfully.

He was still in his blue satin pajamas, arms crossed as he tapped his foot impatiently. He had his uniform laid out on his bed as usual, but today something seemed…just so black and white.

Any other day, Kurt would spend at least half an hour planning out an outfit to wear at McKinley. Despite the slushies and the dumpster dives, he wanted to look his best. But now that he went to Dalton all he had to do was throw his blazer and slacks on then head out the door to class.

There was no extra flare he could put with it. No pins that wouldn't take away from the rest of the ensemble. No scarves to tuck under the collar of his blazer. No hat that wouldn't make him look like a five-year-old schoolboy.

He groaned. This was physically painful. He needed _something_ to spice his appearance up. He'd been feeling boring lately and he knew the reason was this uniform. All of his clothes that he had worked so hard to beg his dad for and countless bidding wars on eBay were just sitting in his closet.

All because of this uniform.

But there wasn't exactly anything he could do about it. He slid out of his pajamas and changed into the uniform before he burned it before going to the bathroom. Looking at himself, he didn't feel like himself. He felt like…well, just another Dalton boy. He felt horribly plain in the uniform. He wished that there was at least a necklace or something he could put on, but even that would seem out of place and awkward.

He brushed his fingers through his hair and sighed. He needed a haircut.

….

Or maybe he didn't.

He scurried out of the bathroom and grabbed his cell phone which had been charging on his nightstand. Pressing the speed dial number 3, he put the phone to his ear and waited.

"..mmllo?" Blaine's sleepy voice answered.

"Blaine, I need a favor."

There was silence, then soft rustling. "Kurt it's 6:30 in the morning."

"I know. I was having some difficulties with my uniform-"

"Did you tear your pants?"

"What? No. Look just bring me some hair gel okay?"

"Hair gel? For what?"

"Just please bring me some, okay? ASAP." He hung up and put the phone down before going over to his desk. Opening his laptop, he already knew what he was going to look up.

He was still looking through images on the internet when there was a knock on his door.

"Come in." He called absently over his shoulders, his eyes not looking away from the screen.

The door opened and closed, and a few moments later a hair gel bottle was placed next to his laptop.

"What's the emergency?" Blaine asked, yawning. He had changed quickly into his uniform, but his hair was still curly from the lack of gel.

Kurt enhanced an image on the screen and grabbed the hair gel bottle, going to the adjoined bathroom. "I just need to try something. And I hope to God it works because I don't have time for another shower before we go get coffee." He said, closing the door slightly.

Blaine sat on the edge of Kurt's bed, setting his bag down on the floor and smiled sleepily. "Coffee sounds nice."

Kurt was silent in the bathroom, so Blaine took it that he was busy. Blaine sighed and looked around the dorm room, rubbing his eyes lightly. He was still a bit sleepy, but once he got his medium drip he would be fine.

The bathroom door opened and Blaine looked up. His eyes slightly widened. "…wh…"

Kurt smiled at him. "Do you like it?"

Blaine stood up slowly and stared at it.

"….I think so."

Kurt huffed. "You either like it or you don't."

Blaine chuckled softly. "I like it then. It's different. I think I just have to get used to it."

Kurt smiled triumphantly and went to grab his bag from the corner of his room. "Alright, ready to go?"

Blaine headed for the bathroom. "Give me a second." He said, going inside and squeezing some gel in his hands, then smearing it all over his hair and combing his fingers through it before walking out.

Kurt raised an eyebrow. "You just…"

Blaine blinked. "What?"

"…never mind, come on, coffee."

Blaine nodded. "Yes, before I fall asleep." He chuckled softly, stifling a yawn. Kurt rolled his eyes and smiled before following Blaine out, making sure his room was locked before they went to the parking lot. "I'll drive, we might crash if you do."

Blaine smiled. "Agreed."

Kurt took his car keys out of his messenger bag and unlocked the doors with the small remote, and both boys got into the car. Kurt couldn't help but look in the rearview mirror at his new hair. It was coiffed perfectly, and higher than he had ever had it before. It made him stand out, made him his own man.

He wasn't going to let a uniform keep him down.

* * *

><p><em>I've had enough<br>This is my prayer  
>That I'll die living just as free as my hair<em>


End file.
